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*****
"Perfect!"
George, who had been secretly probing Vander's thoughts with his spiritual power, let a faint smile tug at the corners of his lips.
Everything was proceeding exactly as he had planned.
After reading the books in the bookstore of the lower district, he had already formed a fairly accurate judgment about the political landscape of the entire Valoran continent.
Piltover was currently the wealthiest of the ten great cities on the continent, surpassing even Noxus and Demacia in terms of riches.
However, in terms of overall strength, it ranked dead last among the ten.
If not for their advanced firearms propping them up, the city would have been utterly pathetic to look at.
This was a world renowned for its magic, and yet Piltover rejected it, deeming magic dangerous, destructive, and harmful. But how could mere mortals armed with rifles hope to stand against mages wielding vast, destructive spells?
Take Demacia for example—at least they had anti-magic stones everywhere. Their armor could negate most magical damage, dragging spellcasters down to the level of ordinary men and forcing them into close combat. Yet Piltover thought they could face large-scale magic attacks with nothing but muskets and rifles? Ridiculous.
The only true powerhouse in Piltover was the legendary Wind Goddess Janna, who could casually summon storms capable of leveling entire cities. But she almost never appeared unless great calamity struck.
If Vander truly wanted to prevent the councilors from regaining control of Zaun and restoring it to its former state, then he would inevitably need George—who had already demonstrated a portion of his true strength—at his side.
Besides, George had been the greatest contributor to the recent events.
The following day, personally leading the charge, Vander swept away all remaining resistance forces in Piltover. Both the upper and lower cities fell completely into his hands.
However, he did not execute the councilors or high-ranking officials. Instead, he stripped them of their political power and forced them back into the role of ordinary merchants.
Vander was not Silco; he lacked such cruelty. What he wanted was for the people of the undercity to enjoy the same treatment as those of the upper city.
Moreover, he knew well that if Piltover wished to maintain its current prosperity in the future, it would still require these merchants.
Especially figures like Professor Heimerdinger of the Academy—Vander treated him with great courtesy, even personally escorting him back to the academy that very day.
After all, Piltover's technological achievements were largely thanks to Heimerdinger and the academy he had founded.
Heimerdinger was also the only councilor who had shown sympathy toward the undercity. His academy even admitted talented students from Zaun, without discrimination.
"Sorry about yesterday—I drank too much. I didn't cause you any trouble, did I?"
George rubbed his forehead as he got out of bed, pretending to wear a look of hangover fatigue as he spoke to Vander and the others who had gathered upon hearing he had awakened.
"No, no, absolutely not."
Vander quickly waved his hand.
Trouble? Without George's help, they never could have taken Piltover yesterday.
"That's good then. Seems I shouldn't drink anymore—once I do, I black out, and that's not a good habit."
George nodded as though mulling it over.
Vander's eyes lit up and he quickly added with a smile:
"Brother, what are you saying? How could you not drink? Just drink a little less. Next time you feel like drinking, I'll be right there with you!"
"Brother?"
Vi and Powder both blinked at Vander, while George himself was visibly taken aback.
"Mr. Vander, what do you mean by 'brother'?"
"George, my dear little brother, don't tell me you forgot? Last night when we were drinking, you acknowledged me as your elder brother! From today onward, you are my sworn younger brother—His Highness, the esteemed Prince of New Zaun!"
Turning his head toward Vi and Powder, Vander said:
"Come, call him Uncle."
With the unification of Piltover and Zaun, the people had decided—after much discussion—to abolish Piltover's old council system and restore the imperial system once used by ancient Shurima.
Of course, New Zaun could never compare to the might of Shurima, so it was formally declared a kingdom instead. Vander, chosen by unanimous support, became the king of New Zaun.
The process was almost like the famed "Yellow Robe Ceremony" at Chenqiao—an act of destiny.
Hierarchy was inevitable; even in the undercity it existed.
The small gang leaders who had followed Vander into battle would naturally expect to be rewarded with honor and benefits after victory.
Vander understood this, and so he did not resist—accepting the throne of New Zaun.
All of that was expected and inevitable.
The real problem troubling him was how to make George stay—how to bind George to New Zaun willingly and wholeheartedly.
After all, George was from Demacia, and likely held a respectable background and identity there.
Vander had thought it over the entire night and finally came up with an idea.
By leveraging George's drunken words, he declared him his sworn younger brother and granted him the title of Prince—second only to the king himself.
Given George's glorious achievements from the previous day, no one would object.
As the prince of New Zaun, second in authority only to the king, George would surely develop a sense of belonging. If New Zaun were ever in danger, he would never turn a blind eye.
"Eh?"
George feigned confusion, wearing a puzzled expression, though in his heart he secretly gave Vander a thumbs up.
To have thought of such a scheme—clearly Vander was no rigid brute, but a clever and adaptable leader.
"Uncle George…"
With Vander giving them constant meaningful looks, Vi and Powder reluctantly addressed George.
But George looked nearly the same age as Powder, making the title "Uncle" sound unbearably awkward.
"Uh…"
George rubbed his forehead, then relaxed and said with a grin:
"Since my elder brother has acknowledged me as his sibling, it's my honor. And as for you two nieces, this will be your uncle's gift."
He waved his hand, and two ornamental swords hanging on the wall flew into his grasp.
Opening his mouth, he spat out two bursts of flame, melting the swords into molten metal.
Countless magical runes swirled into the molten mass, which quickly took shape into a pair of gauntlets and a heavy machine gun.
He formed hand seals, sending another flurry of incantations into them.
"Condense!"
With a sharp command, the two artifacts—fused creations of alchemy and weapon-forging—were completed, glowing with golden light as they landed before Vi and Powder.
With his mastery of alchemy across countless worlds and the newly acquired Divine Forge of Hundred Refinements, crafting two low-grade magical artifacts was but a matter of minutes.
Though they were only low-grade artifacts, in Piltover they were formidable weapons indeed.
Vi couldn't resist slipping on the golden gauntlets. She threw a punch forward, and a surge of invisible force blasted out, shattering the reinforced wall of the room—a wall made of metal, not the wooden walls of the undercity.
Powder hefted the machine gun, finding it surprisingly light, as if weightless. She aimed through the hole Vi had made in the wall and pressed the trigger.
Flaming rounds erupted in a barrage, exploding in the skies above Piltover—dangerous, yet dazzling.
"They have many more functions. Drip a drop of your blood on them, and you'll be able to store them within your bodies. You can take your time exploring their uses."
George smiled, patiently teaching the two girls how to claim ownership of the artifacts.
Meanwhile, Vander was utterly dumbfounded.
He had never expected George to also be… a mage.
(End of Chapter)